


stay

by qynntessence



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3441509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qynntessence/pseuds/qynntessence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Natasha using her training to find and remove triggers for Tony's PTSD. Natasha pre-planning excuses to get him away from everyone before he has a panic attack, or so he can have on privately and not be embarrassed. Natasha coding JARVIS protocols so he plays soothing music at danger signals, opens doors so Tony can see he has an escape route, and always makes sure that Tony has a pair of sunglasses when he goes out, to help him deal with overstimulation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stay

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always looking for constructive criticism or comments on what I did well, that way I can improve. Please don't hesitate to leave a comment or shoot me a message!
> 
> TW: descriptions of panic attacks

Bruce wasn’t the only person that Tony told about his adventures.

However, Natasha was the only person who stopped him in the middle. 

"Woah, Tony. Back up there. How long have you been having panic attacks?" He looked down sheepishly.

"That was the first, but, uh- I don’t know, eight, nine months now? It’s hard to keep track of." He scratched at the back of his neck as she sighed.

"Tony, you do realize that not getting help, or at least, not reaching out to someone is dangerous, right? None of us want you to get hurt." Her voice has taken on a softer tone, one he doesn’t hear that often.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay. Tony, look at me." She says quietly as he moves to leave. "It’s okay. You don’t have any experience with this. I do. Let me help?" Very, very slowly, he nods.

"Okay. Can you tell me what triggers them?"

—

God, helping Tony is great, but it brings back so many memories of her own recovery.

Natasha turns in bed, trying to get comfortable while very pointedly ignoring the memories that are trying to pour into her head. Orphanages, hospitals, innocents on the street- their faces, these places flash before her eyes. She bites her pillow so she doesn’t scream, and eventually drifts into an uneasy sleep.

—

"JARVIS? I need to set some protocols." Natasha wakes up the next morning, still exhausted but knowing what she needed to do.

"When Tony starts getting anxious- anything that could indicate a panic attack- can you start playing some music? Open up some doors, show him escape routes, and notify me?"

"Yes, Miss Romanoff."

"Thanks, JARVIS."

—

Three weeks after their conversation, and it seems like Tony has forgotten all about Natasha’s offer to help. They’re gathered in the living room, the six of them, waiting for take-out as Bruce watches a documentary on the History Channel. The TV changes to a commercial for a new series coming out soon.

"What really happened in the Battle of New York? Was it really aliens?" Natasha stops listening and looks immediately to Tony, who is tensing up.

"Hey, Tony, I’ve got an undercover assignment in a few days, and I could use some help with wardrobe- I’m playing some millionaire’s wife. You’ve been to those type of parties- can you help me find the right kind of dress?" She says quickly, and he nods. Natasha ignores the confused look from Clint- he knows that they have an assignment in Minsk the next week- but takes Tony gently by the arm and leads him to her room.

Once they reach her bed, he’s shaking, and she is very careful as she helps him to lie his head on the pillows.

"Hey. Tony, nobody’s going to bother you here, okay? Do you want me to stay, or leave you alone?"

”...Stay.”

"Okay. I’m right here." She lies on top of the blankets, running her fingers through Tony’s hair softly as he buries himself in the pillow, shaking and crying and screaming.

She bites her lip and forces herself to stay calm, for his sake.

—

Natasha returns from Minsk with Clint a month later, someone else’s blood under her fingernails and on her hands. She looks utterly dead when they arrive on the common floor of the tower, her hair lank and her eyes bloodshot. 

"Movie night tonight." She means to ask, but it comes out more as a vague threat. Steve nods softly and stands up to follow her as she heads to her floor.

"You okay, Nat?" He’s looking at her with those big eyes, begging to help.

"Just a bad mission. More blood on my hands- whether its good or bad, I still don’t like it." She steps into his hug, nestling her head against his neck. His hands run through her hair.

"I know you don’t. I’ll put on something calming, okay?" He smiles, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

"Thanks, Steve."

She showers quickly, getting all of the dirt and sweat off from the past few days, and walks back into the common room. She collapsed onto the couch, her head in Thor’s lap and stomach on Clint’s, who traces patterns idly on her back. Bruce brings everyone hot chocolate, his recipe, and runs a hand through her hair as he passes. Thor starts playing with her hair as Steve starts the movie- Finding Nemo, tonight- and she relaxes as much as she can.

—

That night, she pulls her knees close and screams into her pillow.

Two kids. They looked around seven, just playing.

They were gone.

The hospitals and orphanages and all the other places flash through her mind, and she screams again.

All of a sudden, there is a hand on her head, and then she’s grabbed the wrist and is pushing whoever-it-is against the wall. “What the fuck do you want?” She growls, before realizing the hand belongs to Tony. She relaxes a bit, trying to wipe her eyes discreetly. 

"You okay?" She asks, biting her lip again. "If you need my help, I can make hot chocolate or something…" She trails off as he shakes his head.

"I’m fine, Nat, but I also know you’re not." She moves to protest, but he shakes his head again.

"Please. Let me help." He offers her a mug that she didn’t notice before, but now she can smell the cocoa rising from the cup.

"Do you want me to stay or go?"

"Stay." She crawls back into the bed, burying her head under the pillows. Tony sits next to her, a hand on her back, not saying anything, just existing.

—

The next month, when they find Bruce buried under a pile of blankets in his room, Natasha curls up beside him, mumbling old Russian nursery rhymes until he falls asleep, head in her lap. When Steve is found in the workout room, sitting in the corner staring into space, Tony is the one who sits next to him, running fingers through his hair and talking about his newest inventions. After the mission in Atlanta, Clint comes home and just shatters during the movie, Thor runs his hands through his hair while Steve talks gently of the newest portrait he’s working on.

And the next time Tony breaks, when he’s working on a new piece of machinery and he hasn’t slept in days, he’s around family.

They don’t make it better, but they make it bearable.

**Author's Note:**

> Similar writings can be found at assemblerepresentation.tumblr.com.


End file.
